Understanding redemption

The notion of redemption, especially the redemption of pain, is a fascinating one to me, and remains more or less the only thing driving me to study religion, both ancient and modern.

The etymology of “redemption”

I can’t help but look at a word’s older meanings when trying to understand the concept it represents. Without cultural (i.e. sociohistorical) context, any word is flat and drab. In this particular case, I’m tempted to think of coupons, rather than souls or minds, if I don’t bother to think etymologically. Picking apart the Latin construction, we get two basic parts:

1. re(d)-, an extremely common Latin prefix meaning essentially “again” or “back to the original place”
2. emere, a Latin verb meaning “to buy,” itself consisting of the prefix e(x)-, meaning “out of,” and merere, “to deserve” (cf. English “merit”). ((See entry for “exempt” at EtymOnline.)) Together, then, as emere, it means “that which is earned.”

It seems, then, that redemption is a later purchase, the delayed derivation of value. And this makes a hell of a lot of sense. ((Interestingly enough, Exodus 21:8 uses the word to refer to the buying back of slaves!))

The philosophy of “redemption”

My latest realization in this line of thought, by which I mean the understanding of suffering, is that I’ve been searching for a Grand Unified Theory of Belief. Much like how comparative mythology fascinates me by pointing out isomorphisms in folklore across significant cultural boundaries, theology is interesting to me only in the singleness of its various forms. It sounds obtuse, irreverent far beyond the point of atheism, to say of the multiplicity of religious belief in the world, “It’s all the same.” But often, that’s precisely how I feel.

One of the most important themes in understanding redemption, in my mind, is that of return. There is progress, yes—much like the “If you can get through it. If you can endure it all the way” philosophy ((See the previous post, an excerpt from Ursula K. Le Guin’s The Dispossessed.))—a progress that implies deviation and therefore growth. But more important than that, there is an eventual homecoming, a point at which the wayfarer returns to the point of departure, and discovers in the process that home is everywhere. (At the risk of sounding didactic, please remember that Daoism’s 道 means “way” or “path”.)

Circles, arcs, bends, and loops

It seems to me that this discussion of redemption, while certainly encompassing broad swaths of philosophy and theology, is mostly a messy stew of linguistics and numerology, of geometry and divination. This is unfortunate in terms of ease of understanding, but fortunate in terms of fun.

All the curvatures listed above (viz. circles, arcs, bends, and loops) can be understood in different ways, specifically as referring to space (e.g. arc) or time (e.g. loop). This is an expected byproduct of the spatiotemporalization so common in Western cultures, and consequently seen throughout the English language. For the sake of clarity, I’ll define each curvature according to its use in the present argument. ((There is nothing remotely mathematical about these definitions. They were made up and hammered into shape specifically for the sake of this discussion. As such, they might differ considerably from their more traditional forms.))

1. circle: A process or concept exhibiting unity, whether spatial or temporal, in form or function
2. arc: Progress whose path indicates transverse velocity (i.e. the presence of any vector both nonidentical to, and acting upon, the initial trajectory)
3. bend: Permutation to an otherwise straight trajectory which introduces curvature, thereby increasing the distance traveled (i.e. path) in a discrete but nonlinear fashion
4. loop: A reiterating process exhibiting a constant semantic structure which varies only in its temporal displacement

The confluence of these shapes and concepts forms the path to redemption.

The circle, as an entity both spatial and temporal, is the recognition of the illusion of difference. The presence of infinity in the recursive symmetry of the circle is a mark of divinity. The absolute oneness of the circle approaches nonness, yet cannot reach it in its silence.

The arc is often the straightest path possible. It represents the presence of plural forces in the structuring of the path, the eternal inertia of past direction, even after the future path has been chosen. A well crafted arc is beautiful and efficient, a joyous yet purposed teleological ride.

The bend is a change in the path. It can turn a line into an arc, or a circle into an ellipse. It is the purposeful modification of real elements in order to arrive at a finite future. Over time, a bend can be thought of as periodicity or oscillation in a waveform.

The loop is a careful reconsideration of an attempt, amounting essentially to “How about now?” The attempt must work at some point. Given the constant restructuring of the path, the loop constitutes stored memory. It can reattach to the past, and thereby affect the future.

Spirals, helices, vortices, and circles

Now, further spatialization of the already temporal concepts discussed here yields new concepts ripe for our understanding. If 道 is to be understood as a 1-dimensional component to redemption, i.e. the path (or line), then the previous section detailed the 2-dimensional constructs of the system. This section deals with the 3-dimensional concepts of redemption.

Of course, 道 differs substantially from a mere 1-dimensional line; its quality of a path mandates consideration in terms of at least two dimensions, to include time with direction, resulting in progress and perspective. And certainly at least “loop” from the 2-dimensional category above demands time, and therefore that list can be understood as consisting of 3-dimensional objects. By the same logic, the concepts discussed in this section could be seen as either 3- or 4-dimensional paths. (This will be the last time this dimensional transformation is carried out.)

Enter the definitions.

1. spiral: Curve  originating at a central point, around which it revolves and from which it grows progressively more distant; notably passes through same radii again and again, but at different and discrete points each time
2. helix: A 3-dimensional curve congruent with a corresponding circle on two axes; essentially a circle with an “activated” third (z-) axis
3. vortex: A 3-dimensional curve congruent with a corresponding spiral on two axes; essentially a spiral with an “activated” third (z-) axis
4. circle: A 3-dimensional progression functionally constant on two axes; the most constant of all shapes and thoughts, even more so than a line, given that the circle revisits space in displaced time

And the expanded discussion.

The spiral remembers but diverges. Its progress in difference is fueled by fear of the past, by the yearning to change. In its excellence in a single plane, it is blind to, and therefore bound by, infinitely more.

The helix remembers and honors. Even in its adherence to tradition, however, it cannot help but evolve: it continually remakes itself in its own image, or in the image of the thought which preceded it. Nevertheless, it excels in only a single dimension, and remains bound in two.

The vortex, for all its striving, is trapped in its aspiration. It is defined by the nature of the progress it once made, and perpetuates the sins of its father, which it long ago became.

The circle in three dimensions contains the potential to rewrite itself. ((Cf. death code, Oroborus.)) It exhibits loyalty and purpose, fidelity to the ineffable cause of self without context: Monism. ((Cf. Einheit, zⁿ = 1, ت(وحيد), 一神教.))

The spiral remembers and wanders. Wandering can be ordered.

The helix remembers honor. It is resolute, like a crystal lattice. Its strength and eternity allows for change outside itself: within.

The vortex cannot consume its origin.

Shapes, lines, times, and rhymes. The indivisible is invisible. The effort serves; having made it through, we are both younger and older.

We cannot go back. Nevertheless, we must try.